Just His Imagination

JUST HIS IMAGINATION

"You are so hot. I'll bet half the men in the hall want to screw you."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

My husband Mike continued, "You dress like that on purpose, knowing what it does to me."

I was wearing a business skirt that came to my knees, a cream-colored blouse, buttoned to my neck, stockings, shoes and some jewelry. I didn't know what he was talking about, but it wasn't the first time.

"What do you mean?" I wondered.

"I had a perfect seat. I could see up your skirt with you sitting in that chair. Your boobs jiggled when you came up to speak. I could see the outline of your nipples through your blouse. Doesn't it make you hot to have all those men ogling you?"

He was nuts, I thought. Mike has an active imagination but this was unusual. Still, him talking about me like he was, was titillating. I wondered if it was true. Were all the men in the audience thinking about me that way, imagining having sex with me?

He went on, "Your legs really looked sexy in those high heels. They are CFM shoes for sure."

"They are conservative shoes. You're my husband, so you like my legs, but they're not anything special."

"Oh yes, they are. You don't really believe that the men in the audience weren't looking at your legs."

We were at a convention and I had been on the stage as a member of a panel. There were six of us up there. I was the only young woman. There was an older broad wearing a pants suit that looked like a sack. They had us sitting in regular conference room chairs with armrests. The chairs faced the audience of a hundred-or-so people. With the way I was sitting, I was conscious of keeping my knees together so I didn't give the audience an upskirt view. Now Mike was telling me I had. I looked at my blouse to see if the impressions of my nipples were visible and they weren't, at least I couldn't tell if they were. Maybe their dark color had shown through my bra and blouse, but that was really doubtful.

I said, "Mike. It's just your imagination. They couldn't see anything."

He persisted, "You don't remember crossing and recrossing your legs. Every time you did, we all could see your sleek thighs in those stockings. I caught a glimpse of the top of your stockings once. Your bare white skin above the top was visible for a flash."

"That's not true. I put my hands in my lap when I do that specifically so people can see."

"I imagined what it would've been like if you weren't wearing panties. Are you?"

"Of course I have panties on."

"I was imagining you didn't, thinking about seeing the hair on your pussy. You'd like all those people to see your pussy, wouldn't you?"

I did have some exhibitionist in me, but he was talking crazy. "No, I wouldn't."

He said, "You liked it when all those men saw you naked at the nude beach in Spain last summer."

"That's different."

"What's different about it. Why would it have been different for everyone to see you naked today?"

"This is a business meeting. People don't do things like that in America."

He went on. "You didn't have your legs crossed all the time. There were a few times you had both feet on the floor and I was focused on the gap between your knees. It was dark in the shadows under your skirt, but I swear I could see your panties."

"You could not."

He said, "They're pink, are they not?"

They were. Oh shit, I thought, but then rationalized that he must've watched me get dressed. He always does. "You saw them this morning." I protested.

He said, "No, you were already dressed when I got out of the shower."

Now he was worrying me. Had people, men, in the audience seen my panties at a moment of indiscretion with my legs. "Are you serious?"

He said, "Absolutely. You should see the men looking at your ass after you walk by them."

"No way." I said. Was he serious?

"Way! I watched your tits jiggle when you came to the lectern to speak. We had a peek at your bra and bare skin in the gaps between the buttons of your blouse."

"You could not."

"Your little nipples were poking out proudly."

I said, "That's just not true. You can't see my nipples."

He put his finger against my breast and pressed the exact spot where my nipple was. Then he did it to the other breast. Maybe he had just memorized where they were, but damned if he hadn't been exactly right.

"You're embarrassing me." I said. "I'm a professional woman. Men don't think of me that way."

He laughed. "Some guys may think they don't, but believe me, we are observant and notice everything about a woman. You have a beautiful face. Your earrings are sexy and the necklace you are wearing draws attention to your chest."

"I was stunned.

Then he said, "That thing you do when your shoe comes off your heel and you balance it on your toes really turns-me-on."

"You're nuts. You like looking at my feet?"

"Absolutely. You are really sexy when your leg is bouncing just a little with your shoe like that. I wanted to run up there and strip you."

I knew he was at least partially kidding, trying to get me aroused. It was working. I wanted to hear more. "Oh yeah. What would you have done?"

"I would've stripped you naked and fucked you on the stage with hundreds of people watching. It would've been the highlight of the convention."

"Ooh, with everyone watching, huh?"

"Yeah. I would've put you on your hands and knees and fucked you, doggy style. Your tits would've been swaying and they would see your bare ass with my dick inside you."

I said, "You shouldn't talk like this, it's making me horny."

He continued, "Your boss is here. I'll bet he's thought of what your tits are like."

"I don't think so. Mr. Krebs is pretty formal around the office."

"You don't think he's imagined what you'd look like naked, sitting in his office?"

"No."

"Think about it. You'd be bare-assed naked, sitting in his office with him looking at your tits and your pussy while you were trying to tell him something about your work."

The thought had entered my mind. "Do you think he'd imagine that."

"Of course, he's a man. He'd probably like nothing better than to bend you over his desk and fuck you. Think about it. You'd be naked with is cock inside you."

I knew I wouldn't be able to get that thought out of my mind when I was in the boss's office. Mike was getting me hot.

We were in a corner of the big exhibit hall after the general session where I had been on the stage. Mike and all the audience had been seating at a lower level and it was true that my legs would've been right at eye level. I don't think like a man, but I've heard enough about their dirty minds to suspect that at least some of them were looking up my skirt. The thought was arousing me and I could feel the wetness in my panties. Mike could tell.

He continued, "I imagined that you were up there without panties and all those men could see your little pussy, peeking between your legs. Maybe they could see your beaver, maybe your slit."

Oh shit! He was getting me hot, using just his imagination. He had me thinking about men looking at my crotch.

Mike continued, "My cock was hard just watching you. How many men do you think were getting boners, from looking at you?"

I giggled and asked, "I don't know, tell me."

Mike said, "Lots of them. I could see a few guys with their hands in their laps, probably rubbing their pricks while they were thinking of what they'd like to do to you."

My pussy was hot and getting wetter with the thoughts of men getting hard-ons because of me. I think I'm just a dumpy broad, but I do have a nice pair of breasts and I try to keep fit.

He was getting to me. I asked, "What would they like to do to me?"

He said, "They'd like to strip you and put their faces in you pussy. Think about those men on the stage sucking your cunt. I think a few of them had hard-ons."

Mike went on, "Notice that I've been staying close to you so some guy doesn't just drag you off into a room, strip you and fuck you."

Oh my. There was another highly erotic thought. Some stranger might be so hot for me that he'd pull me into a room and do me. It would be rape, but not if I wanted it. I looked at my husband. He could tell that I was hot.

I was flustered. I said, "Why don't you take me somewhere and fuck me."

Our hotel was many blocks away. We were in a big convention hall, though. There must be a vacant room somewhere.

Mike said, "Don't you have to stay here and hobnob with the people. I'm sure many of them would like to talk to you, although I don't think they'd be listening to you."

"Why not?"

"They's be checking-out your body, looking at your chest, thinking about what it would be like to be in bed with you, sucking on your nipples."

Now I was thinking that maybe every man there wanted to fuck me. I knew it wasn't true, but it probably was partly true. I looked around the big room, identifying nice-looking men and wondering if they'd want a piece of my ass.

Mike saw what I was doing and said, "Look at that guy over there. Would you like him to fuck you?"

I looked away and he identified another older, distinguished looking man. He said, "That guy might make you his mistress, someone to fuck when his wife wouldn't put out."

I was thinking naughty thoughts and looked at Mike with a distracted look in my eyes.

Mike said, "Go to the ladies' room and remove your underwear. I'm sure you'll make an even better impression."

I did have to pee, so I went to the ladies' room. On the way, I felt that every eye was on me, watching my ass wiggle and my tits bounce.

Inside the stall, I peed. I wiped my pussy, but then left my hand there. I touched myself. I could feel the heat in my groin and touched the slick, wet surface of my genitals. My finger found my magic button and pressed it. It felt so good and I felt a release of the sexual tension inside me. I was amazed that I was coming. I was breathing heavily and hoped no one heard me. I slid my finger up inside me, touching the walls of my vagina. The juices were oozing out of me. I was having an orgasm in the ladies' room, fingering myself after exhibiting my body on the stage. Maybe it was just his, and now my, imagination, but it was extremely arousing. I had a few fingers stuffed inside me. It felt good, but nothing could match the feeling of my husband's cock deep inside my cunt. I squeezed my legs together on my hand in my vagina. I closed my eyes and felt the waves washing over me. I heard myself gasping.

I pulled my panties off. I thought about losing the bra, but that would be too obvious. The naughty thought of walking around among all those people without panties fed my continuing arousal. My fingers went back inside me and I enjoyed the continuation of my orgasm.

I composed myself, arranging my hair in the mirror. I thought I didn't look bad. I was wearing nice earring and a tight necklace. I undid the two top buttons on my blouse. Men would see the tops of my breasts and my bra if I bent over. I held my panties in my hand, intending to give them to Mike. There were a few women in the ladies' room. Two of them looked at me and I wondered if they had heard me coming. That thought was arousing too. I have pondered whether I have thing for women.

I walked back to where Mike was waiting. He watched me approach. I was self-conscious now, wondering if men were looking at me, wondering if they could tell I wasn't wearing panties. There were no panty-lines on my skirt. My pussy was slippery and I wondered if it was making a swooshing sound that others could hear. My senses were all focused on my body, imagining the nasty thoughts in the minds of the men, and women, ogling me. I kept focusing on my pussy being bare under my skirt, imagining that people might notice from the way I walked.

I showed my husband the panties in my hand. I handed them to him. Then, I noticed my boss, Mr. Krebs approaching. Mike wasn't doing anything to conceal my underwear, so I grabbed them from his hand and put them in my little purse.

We talked with Mr. Krebs. Mike knew him, of course, and continued the conversation. I was self-conscious with my pussy continuing to leak from my arousal. Could they tell? Was my face flushed?

Mike said to my boss, "She looked good up on that stage, didn't she?"

Krebs, who'd had a few drinks was unusually unrestrained in his conversation, looked at me and said, "She sure did." I felt his eyes roaming over my breasts. I wondered if he could see my nipples. Mike's hand roamed over my butt, feeling my ass under the thin dress, drawing my boss's attention to the smooth lines of my skirt and treating me in a manner very different from my office persona.

After a bit, the conversation drifted to discussion of vacations. I was surprised when Mike asked me to get my phone and show my boss the photos of our most recent vacation to Maine. The problem with getting my phone was that it was in my purse with my panties. Mike was trying to have me display my panties to my boss.

I said, "Why not show him on your cell phone?"

"My battery is dead."

I opened my purse, turning somewhat away from the men. I don't know if Mr. Krebs saw the pink panties, but they were quite visible as I reached in my purse for my cell phone. I gave my husband a dirty look.

After my boss had moved on, I chided my husband, "You wanted him to see my panties in my purse, didn't you?"

He said, "It worked, he saw them."

"He did not."

"Oh yes, he did. He saw me rubbing your panty-less ass. He was watching me. I'm sure he was imagining doing the same thing."

"Would want him to do that? Do you want me to let other men feel-me-up?"

Mike said, "Definitely not. You're my wife."

"Then why are you talking about other men wanting to do things to me?"

"I'm proud of you and it's hot seeing other men lust after you."

"It's just your imagination."

He said, "I've seen how hot you are. It's not my imagination."

We purchased sandwiches at the snack bar and sat at a table in the corner. I was facing away from the other people; I'd chosen the seat.

While we were eating, I made it a point to cross my legs a few times. It drew Mike's attention and he was focused on looking up my skirt. I didn't think anyone was looking when I pulled my skirt up my legs and spread my knees for an instant, flashing a furry beaver at my very attentive husband.

He had to use the men's room, so I took the opportunity to visit the ladies' facility. I went into a stall again. I thought for just a moment, then made the decision to do it. I unbuttoned my blouse and took it off. Then I unhooked my bra and removed it. I paused for a while, sitting there with my skirt pulled up, topless and panty-less. I touched my nipples. They were as hard as little pebbles. I was tempted to masturbate myself again, but didn't. I put my blouse on and looked at myself in the mirror. My tits jiggled under my blouse and the dark circles of my areolas were quite visible. I left three buttons undone, knowing that if I bent over, anyone interested could see my naked tits, including their dark pink tips. There was no space in my little purse for the bra, so I threw it in the waste can. After a moment's thought, I put my panties in there too; there was no going back now.

When I exited the restroom, my husband was waiting. He immediately noticed that I was bra-less. I opened my purse to show him the panties were gone.

"I put my underwear in the waste can." I said.

Now he was particularly attentive, but his feelings were conflicted between showing me off and concealing my near nudity.

I asked him, "Do you think people can see my nipples now?"

He looked around and said, "They sure can."

"Do you want me to walk around and let other men have a look?"

He asked, "Don't you know some of these people? You work with them."

I said, "I do. If, as you say, they imagine what I look like naked, why shouldn't I give them a little show?"

He was worried about my reputation. "You don't want to act like a slut."

"Why not. It seems you like men looking at me."

He was speechless, but was guiding me away from the crowded areas.

I suggested, "I could sit on one of the bar stools at the snack bar and flash my pussy at the men sitting there."

"You wouldn't."

"Dare me."

He was flummoxed. I had trumped his suggestive narrative by threatening to actually show my assets to lucky voyeurs. I was feeling so sexy, with no panties and my breasts bouncing as I walked. My nipples were rubbing against the silky material of my blouse, which inspired them to stay hard. My legs looked good in my stockings and with my hair tied-up, my earrings made me look rather elegant, I thought. What man wouldn't want to fuck me.

Mike resumed his teasing. "Do you want to let your boss see your beaver? He'll want to fuck you for sure."

I suggested, "Would you like me to fuck him and tell you about it. I can imagine leaning over his desk with his dick in my cunt."

He said, "You better not." But I could see Mike trying to conceal the bulge in his pants from his turgid penis. I brushed my hand against it as I led him toward the snack bar.

As we approached the crowded area, I couldn't help but notice the attention I was getting from the men I passed. They were leering at my chest and I felt their eyes on my ass after I'd passed.

He said, "Your boss said he was going to a club across the street from our hotel. Maybe we should meet him there. I'd like to see him slid his hand under your skirt and feel your smooth ass. Think about his hand roaming over you, sliding into your crack, maybe touching your asshole and your pussy."

I was turned-on by the thought. "What if he put his fingers inside me. I was thinking of men fingering me when I was doing myself the restroom."

Mike said, "I'd have to keep him from taking you off and fucking you. You'd let him, wouldn't you?"

I said, "I be so horny that I would. You better keep your eye on me or somebody may do it."

I noticed the corridor to the meeting rooms, now empty after the day's sessions. I pulled Mike after me and led him into one of the rooms. The overhead lights were off, so the room was dimly lit. I dropped to my knees as soon as we closed the door. I pushed him against the wall and undid his pants. I fished his hard prick from his pants and put my mouth around it, pressing my lips to please him. I pushed my head down on his cock, taking him all the way into my mouth. His cock slid past the aperture to my throat. Like the circus sword-swallowers, I slid his prick into my esophagus, toward my belly. Mike really likes the way I give head and gasped at the pleasure and my boldness. Anyone who would come into the room would find me sucking his dick.

I let his cock spring free and walked to the front of the meeting room.

"Fuck me, I said. Pretend the room is full of people and fuck me."

I was at the front of the room leaning against a table. Mike stood behind me and lifted my skirt, baring my naked ass. His cock quickly found its mark and slid between my cheeks into my ready and slippery cunt. Feeling his cock filling me, took my breath away. After thinking about sex for over an hour, I was eager for his penetration. His prick slid back and forth. I squeezed him with my cunt-muscles, trying to draw his come from his testicles. He was focused and intense, moving his cock forcefully, yet in a way to give me the maximum pleasure. He knows how I like it and was devoted to pleasing me.

"It made you hot, thinking about men seeing my pussy and fucking me." I said.

He said, "You were so hot up on that stage. I wanted to run up there and fuck you with everyone watching. I wanted them to know you are mine."

I said, "That would've been so hot, everyone watching me get stripped and fucked by my lover."

He unbuttoned my blouse. My tits swung freely except for when his hands were holding them. His fingers pinched my nipples, sending a thrill through me. I was panting and getting closer to coming.